The Best Department Stores Are All Opening Restaurants

Who said that, me? It was only my second day in Dallas and apparently I had lost my mind. Maybe it was the 70-percent-off shoe sale. Or the cool, perfumed air floating through Neiman Marcus NorthPark, quite an escape from the 102-degree temperature outside. Or because Mia Brous, one of my shopping companions, was channeling Cinderella with every shoe she tried: a high-heeled navy suede Azzedine Alaïa evening sandal, a sensible brown leather Manolo Blahnik slingback, a yellow satin Manolo slide, which, in my defense, actually did go perfectly with her white pants and blue blouse.

No, it wasn’t my mind I had lost, it was the sheer joy of department store shopping, a beloved pre-internet memory, when the thrill of the hunt came one precious daylong adventure at a time. My mom, my sister, and I would whip through the racks, gathering up opportunities by the armload, outfits for every occasion, from breakfast in bed to a night at the opera.

We would break for lunch, tea sandwiches—date nut bread with cream cheese at Lord & Taylor’s Birdcage was a favorite—while gabbing nonstop. Then we’d head home, triumphant, our bags filled with prizes.

La Mercerie in New York City.

Daniel Krieger

In recent years shopping has changed for us all. My mother and sister are gone now, and I’ve learned to shop online, a solitary, utilitarian undertaking no matter how much pinot grigio gets poured. I’ve built a surprisingly functional closet, though to maintain it I return at least half of what I buy. When I recently hit the jackpot with two dresses and a top, all on sale and not one in need of alteration, it was the greatest miracle since the loaves and fishes.

Clearly, something ineffable has been lost in the shopping experience—and not only for me—judging from the revival and broadened scope of in-store dining. Retailers and developers are luring shoppers away from their laptops with destination restaurants that not only bring them inside brick-and-mortar stores but remind them how well lunch and shopping go together. In the past year alone, New York saw the opening of 10 Corso Como, from Milan, with its restaurant and café at the South Street Seaport; La Mercerie, at Roman and Williams Guild in Soho; and the Rooftop Restaurant at RH in the Meatpacking District. (RH opened another location in Napa Valley last fall, one that features an indoor-outdoor restaurant with a wine bar.) You know times are changing when you can now buy an end table and celebrate over a Dover sole.

This month, Neiman Marcus makes its long-awaited Manhattan debut as part of the Hudson Yards development. The Zodiac Room, the legendary restaurant from its Dallas flagship, will be there, along with the less formal Bar Stanley for cocktails and a bite, and Cook & Merchants for coffee. Not to be outdone, Saks Fifth Avenue unveils its highly anticipated L’Avenue, designed by Philippe Starck, a restaurant, bar, and lounge on two levels with a terrace that seats 300 and a chef trained by Didier Coly of the original L’Avenue in Paris. I’m already underdressed.

L’Avenue at Saks Fifth Avenue in New York City.

Justin Bridges for Saks Fifth Avenue

While waiting for these to open, I decided to try the Rooftop Restaurant and the much lauded La Mercerie. This elegant French café covers a third of the floor; the store occupies the rest with displays of housewares and tableware. “If Roman and Williams Guild is a home, then a home needs a kitchen,” says Robin ­Standefer, who owns the business with her husband Stephen Alesch. “If you need refreshments while you’re shopping for pillows and linens, La Mercerie has you covered. If you’re inspired by the tabletop while brunching with friends, you can leave with the dishes you were served on.” Alas, my passion for the creamy chicken crepe far exceeded that for the forks.

Likewise, at RH the couches were swell but had nothing on the dramatic yet soothing crystal-chandeliered, tree-planted Rooftop Restaurant. “New York is an urban environment with a lack of greenery,” says Brendan Sodikoff, the Chicago restaurateur who is founding president of RH Hospitality. “So we put the restaurant on the roof and surrounded it with an outdoor park to create a greenhouse sanctuary.” It has the feel of an instant destination, much like the RH store in the historic Three Arts Club in Chicago. Since that store’s café opened, in 2015, more than 50 couples have gotten engaged there. “How often do you hear of people getting engaged in a furniture store?” Sodikoff asks, amused.

How often do you eat a superb burger in a furniture store? Two patties, sharp American cheese, pickles, and Dijonnaise (along with crisp, well-done fries), it was one of the best I ate all year. Still, New York is filled with great food. Combining it with great shopping is what was missing.

Rooftop Restaurant at RH in New York City’s Meatpacking District.

Courtesy

Which is why Dallas was such a revelation. A big city with a small town vibe, it remains the ultimate place for destination shopping and eating, with not one Neiman Marcus but three anchoring the city: the original store downtown, which opened in 1907; NorthPark, the uptown branch, which dates from 1965; and the North Dallas location at Willow Bend Mall. As my guides would reveal, NorthPark is the drop-in Neiman for everyday purchases and items for kids, along with a pit stop at its casual Mermaid Bar. Downtown is the hub for personal shoppers bearing Balmain before or after lunch at the Zodiac. The stores function as urban respites, places to indulge in a grown-up timeout, whether for cappuccino with a friend or a spot at the Holiday Buffet. It’s not so much nostalgia as retail strategy in the age of the click: If you can get people in, they might pick up a Prada bag on the way out.

It’s also history, according to Theresa Palermo, senior vice president of brand marketing at Neiman. She says that what marketers today call experiential retail is a rebranding of the philosophy of Neiman Marcus’s longtime president and chairman, Stanley Marcus: that being in the store is more important than buying in the store. “When you shop for shoes, we’ll serve you champagne,” Palermo says. “We have women who come in every Friday to have their makeup done, gratis, at any of the lines we carry. For us it’s a way to develop relationships. For them it has become a tradition.”

I arrived during a brutal July heat wave that many of the city’s residents had fled. Kimberly Schlegel Whitman, who is so loyal to Neiman Marcus that she had it cater the rehearsal dinner for her wedding, flew back from her vacation in Los Angeles to meet me for lunch at the Zodiac. Our uniformed waiter served demitasse cups of chicken broth, a Stanley Marcus welcoming touch. “We always pick this up when we’re sick,” Whitman says, sipping. “It’s sort of salty, which is what makes it so comforting.”

A vintage menu from the Zodiac Room at Neiman Marcus.

Courtesy

Whitman is the author of eight lifestyle books, most recently Parties Around a Punch Bowl, and the mother of two young children. The brisk efficiency necessary for all those things is tempered by a sense of ease in these surroundings, as if she’s in her second home. “I come here with my mother and sisters year-round,” she says as the waiter brings popovers with strawberry butter, a signature dish. “I like shopping in stores. I like the process.” As I eat unremarkable salmon tacos and Whitman has tomato soup, she says, “The extent of my internet shopping is Moda Operandi. They’re very good at finding young new designers, and ­something will catch my eye. But one of the things Dallas does very well is personal shoppers.” I learn later from Mimi Sterling, Neiman’s vice president of corporate ­culture and philanthropy, just how important they are. “There are so many social events here,” she says, “and the shoppers know not only what looks great on their own clients but what someone else has purchased. They make sure everyone has her own place in the fashion palette of the season.”

After lunch Whitman has to catch a flight back to L.A. “My shoes are worn out,” she murmurs as she steps off the escalator and heads for the Chanel flats. She picks up one, beige with a black cap toe, and the salesman brings a pair. She hands him her card and steps into them without a second glance—they fit perfectly. “I’ll wear them,” she says, gliding toward the door. The entire interaction takes maybe three minutes. If shopping were an Olympic sport, she’d win the gold.

The next morning I meet Mia Brous and her friend Cristina Lynch downtown at Forty Five Ten, a modernist throwback to the glory days of Geraldine Stutz’s Henri Bendel (the last iteration of which closed this winter) that showcases luxury brands. A block away from Neiman, Forty Five Ten opened the Mirador restaurant, itself an elegant magnet, in 2016.

The Zodiac Room at the original Neiman Marcus in Dallas.

Courtesy

Brous, 35, is a San Antonio native who grew up shopping in Dallas on special occasions with her mother and is now herself the mother of three young children. She is the founder and co-owner of Madre, a store here that specializes in custom bedrooms and housewares for children, and gifts for their moms. Lynch, 30, is a Dallas native who owns Mi Golondrina, which sells clothing and accessories made by Mexican artisans, online and in her showroom here. Once a month she hosts Open Saturdays, providing coffee and mimosas to encourage buyers to stop in and stay a while. Both women are good shoppers, good eaters, and good sports; they signed on for two lunches and two stores even though it was a workday for each of them.

We start with deviled eggs topped with caviar—­delish—and watch the place fill up. “Most of our diners are clients,” Kristen Cole, the president and chief creative officer of Forty Five Ten later tells me. “We’re much smaller than a department store but bigger than a boutique, like 10 Corso Como or Dover Street Market in London. We’re a highly edited designer destination where a café component is not unusual. We also have a contemporary art collection with pieces by Juergen Teller, Tracey Emin, and Jose Dávila, so our shoppers can experience lunch, art, and fashion to have fun.” (It too is opening a New York outpost this month at Hudson Yards.)

A rendering of the Zodiac Room at the Neiman Marcus opening in New York City this year.

Courtesy

At the table I try to pay attention to my chicken paillard, just to see if chicken paillard has improved since the 1980s. It hasn’t. But maybe it’s me. When I admit I’m no fan of the Neiman Marcus popovers, Brous looks wounded. Lynch looks surprised. The popover was her grandmother’s favorite. There’s just no arguing with childhood memories.

Our second lunch, at Neiman Marcus NorthPark, beckons, and that’s where my sense memory kicks in: the kaleidoscope of seemingly endless possibilities, that hallmark of feeling young. Which is when we encounter the shoe sale. Brous has the same feet as Whitman, apparently: slide and glide. The salesman holds all three pairs so she can decide after lunch.

A rendering of Bar Stanley, set to open at the Neiman Marcus coming to Manhattan’s Hudson Yards.

Courtesy

The Mermaid Bar’s walls are filled with tile murals commissioned by Stanley Marcus. (The last time I was in Dallas was in 1995 to interview him on the occasion of his 90th birthday. In true Texas style, the store celebrated by presenting him with 90 cakes.) Today the place is packed. I have the Mermaid sampler, which includes a pecan tuna salad that is both crunchy and creamily divine. But nothing surpasses the coconut cake—what is it about Southern baking? Then all at once, the party is over. Lynch returns to her store, I leave for the airport, and Brous heads back to the shoe department, where she betrays me. Yes to the blue and brown, she tells me in an e-mail. No to the yellow. Well, who was I to force yellow satin shoes on someone else while not buying a thing myself? I had settled for the contact high, instead.

Still, my head was turned. When Neiman Marcus opens in New York, I will be first in. Especially if they bring the coconut cake.

This story appears in the March 2019 issue of Town & Country. SUBSCRIBE NOW

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